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the duties of his office. His voice has ever been heard, calm and clear, above the din and tempest of party warfare and prejudice, giving forth the oracles of truth, in unbending and uncompromising integrity. The best tribute to the memory of such a man, and one which he would delight most to receive, is, an imitation of his example. This example affords another memorable instance, that the highest and strongest powers of intellect, may be made clearer and stronger, by moral purity and elevation.
The estimation in which he is held, in this country, by all parties and classes, is a strong evidence of the moral power of integrity and excellence; and the fact, that he is so estimated, argues much, in favor of the principles and the purity of that people, who have thus come forth, and with one voice paid the tribute of respect to the virtues which were exhibited in the life and character of JOHN MARSHALL, the hero, the statesman, and the sage.
DIED, on the 16th day of May, 1835, at her residence in Dublin, Mrs. FELICIA HEMANS.
A bright star in the poetical heavens, has sunk to its rest. We have gazed upon its mild and gentle radience, as it shed its melancholy light upon the hearts of men; and have felt the stirring influences of its pure and lofty spirit. As we gazed, it faded from the clear heavens, before the light of the perfect day on high, and we could not help feeling how calm had been its course, and how peaceful its going out from amid the bright stars around it.
There is a solemn earnestness in the writings of Mrs. Hemans, which seems like the outporings of a bereaved spirit, and a shade of melancholy is thrown across her most beautiful, and even her most lively, pieces. Although it is said she had powers of wit and humor, yet her mind seems to have been too strongly impressed with the serious in beauty, and in truth, ever to give way to lightness. As a soul, when filled with some strongly engrossing topic, amid all other occupation, is recurring constantly to that-so she, in all her writing, has tinged her thoughts with the melancholy, which seems to have been constantly springing up in her heart. This has exposed her to the charge of monotony; but to us, there is a charm even in this. There are times, in the pilgrimage of every soul, in this world of trial, when the tones of the harp of the beautiful poetess minister peace, as their solemn sounds break upon the ear-when they are sweet, as the sound of the waters to the thirsty wayfaring man.
Have not all felt this? And must not all, who have felt the power of the spell, agree with us, that she held a charmed lyre? And the voice of that music is hushed, forever! No more shall its sweet strains settle upon the soul disturbed, like oil upon the troubled waters-Peace to her memory!-She needs no eulogium from us; the voice of mankind accords it to her. She needs no monumental epitaph, for her's is engraved upon the human heart; and never shall her name cease to be revered, or her praises uttered, while there is a heart to feel, and a voice to commend, the pure, the elevated, and the good.
BY REV. ORVILLE DEWEY.
We feel ourselves utterly incompetent to write what is commonly called a review of this volume. It seems to us to form by itself an era in Sermon-writing. We never read any composition in any shape more full of deep and thrilling interest than these discourses. If any of those who heard them, or any who read them, do not exhibit in their lives proof of renewed and invigorated virtue, we must esteem such persons as out of the reach of human influence. A great charm of the book, is, the author's own mind speaks to us in his own way, of the things which he knows and feels. Not a word of common-place is there, for every idea is individualized. We hear the voice, not of a preacher technically so called, but of one immortal, religious, thinking man, speaking in the name of Christ to his fellow-creatures. It is impossible to help feeling as we read; he is addressing us, and we must attend. It is impossible for any one to say, I have nothing to do with what he is saying, it is meant for others, not for me. We forget every one else, and remember only that we are ourselves concerned. From the first sermon to the last, as we read we feel ourselves under a strong, but noiseless religious excitement, as though something were at work within us, which we never felt before. We could not look upward, and shout "hallelujah," for we are calm and hushed; but we now silently thank God for his goodness-now we bow down in awe as the prophet, when he said, "Woe is me, for I have seen the Lord of Hosts;" and now the heart murmurs, "God be merciful to me a sinner!"
We had the good fortune to hear the greater part of these discourses from the pulpit; and we remember wishing more
than once that every one could have the same privilege; because, although we knew that sooner or later they would be published, we feared that they would lose much of their impressiveness when unaccompanied by the fervent toneh of the Preacher's voice; but now it seems to us that they are better to read than they were to hear; there is not a sentence in them which does not bear to be studied; and the more slowly and calmly we read, the stronger and deeper is their effect upon us. We wish we were able to give an analysis of some of these discourses, in order to induce as many as can to procure the book; but the attempt to do so, would be in vain. In truth, when we took up our pen, we did not mean to say any thing of the book in general. The little we have said came not at our bidding, but of its own accord; and except that it is an expression of real feeling, we should now erase it.
Our design was to use some extracts from one of these sermons, with the specific view of answering an accusation sometimes alledged against those who are called liberal Christians-that they are liberal in a bad sense; that they are lax in their notions of religious and moral obligation. There never was a charge more completely untrue, if the spirit of our form of faith is regarded; but it is of so injurious a character that it is our duty to repel it with some care; and the preaching of our eminent men affords a fair and conclusive method of doing so effectually. There are two Sermons in the volume, on Revelation; from the second of which we shall copy some pages, as being adapted to our purpose:
"The great evil attending the common statements of this doctrine, (of retribution,) I shall now venture to say, is, not that they are too alarming. Men are not enough alarmed at the dangers of a sinful course. No men are; no men, though they sit under the most terrifying dispensation of preaching that ever was devised. But the evil is, that alarm is addressed too much to the imagination, and too little to the reason and conscience. Neither Whitfield, nor Baxter, nor Edwardsthough the horror produced by his celebrated sermon "On the justice of God in the damnation of sinners," is a matter of tradition in New-England, to this very day-yet no one of them ever preached too much on terror, though they may have preached it too exclusively; but the evil was, that they preached terror, I repeat, too much to the imagination, and too little to the reason and conscience. Of mere fright, there may be too much; but, of real, rational fear, there never can be much. Sin, vice, a corrupt mind, a guilty life, and the
woes naturally flowing from these,never can be too much dreaded. It is one thing, for the preacher to deal in mathematical calculations of infinite suffering, to dwell upon eternal torments, to speak of literal fires, and of burning in them forever; and with these representations, it is easy to scare the imagination, to awaken horror, and a horror so great, as to be at war with the clear, calm, and faithful discriminations of conscience. With such means it is easy to produce a great excitement in the mind. But he who should, or who could, unveil the realities of a strict and spiritual retribution, show what every sinner loses, show what every sinner must suffer, in and through the very character he forms; show, too, how bitterly every good man must sorrow for every sin, here or hereafter, show, in fine, what sin is and forever must be, to an immortal nature, would make an impression more deep, and sober, and effectual." pp. 206, 207.
"The future is to answer for the present. This is the great law of retribution. And so obviously necessary and just is it; so evidently does our character create our weal or woe; so certainly must it give us pain or pleasure, as long as it goes with us, whether in this world or another world, that it seems less requisite to support the doctrine by argument, than to defend it from evasions." Ib.
The Sermon then proceeds to speak very, very powerfully of such evasions; "the substitution of something as a preparation for future life, instead of giving the whole life to it," is especially referred to; and the expectation of working out salvation in a few weeks or months' time, is shown to be a very common one, by an allusion to several popular prejudicessuch as the supposed efficacy of death-bed repentance. Next he proves-first, by Scripture, second, by reason-that all such hopes are fallacious. A part of his reasoning under this second head, we extract:
"No, my friends, the terms on which we receive happiness -and I appeal now to reason, in the second place the terms on which we receive true, moral, satisfying happiness, cannot be easy. They are not; experience shows that they are not; life shows that they are not; and eternity will but develop the same strict laws; for it is a part of our nature--it is a part of the nature and reason of things. The senses may yield us such pleasure as they can yield, without effort; taste may delight us, and imagination may minister to us in a careless reverie; but conscience does not offer to us its happiness on such terms. I know not what may be the law for other beings, in some other sphere; but I know that no truly, morally, hap
being was ever made here, but through much effort, long culture, frequent self-denial, and abiding faith, patience and prayTo be truly happy, what is so difficult? What is so rare? And is Heaven, think you-the blessed consummation of all that man can ask-to be obtained at less expense than it will cost to gain one pure, calm day upon earth? For even this comparatively trifling boon, one blessed day, one day of religious joy, one day of joy in meditation and prayer, one day of happiness that is spiritual, and not physical nor circumstantial -even this comparatively slight boon cannot be gained without long preparation of mind, and heart, and habit. There are multitudes around us, and of us, to whom at this moment, one such day's happiness is a thing just as impossible, as it would be in that day to make a world. And shall they think to escape this very law of happiness under which they are actually living, and to fly away to Heaven on the wings of imagination?-to pass at once from unfaithfulness to reward-from apathy to ecstacy-from the neglect and dislike of prayer, to the blessed communion of heavenly worship-from this hour of being, absorbed in sense and the world-to an eternity of spiritual glory and triumph? No:-Be assured that facts are here, as they are everywhere, worth more than fancies-be they those of dreaming visionaries or ingenious theologians; if you are not now happy in penitence, and humility, and prayand the love of God, you are not in fact prepared to be happy in them hereafter. No: between the actual state of mind prevailing in many, and the bliss of Heaven, "there is a great gulf fixed"-over which no wing of mortal or angel was ever spread. No: the law of essential, enduring, triumphant happiness, is labor and preparation for it; and it is a law, which will never, never-never be annulled!" pp. 217, 219.
This is not the language of one seeking an easy way to Heaven. It is not the language of a man, who wishes to satisfy himself that common morality is enough; but of one who feels that religion is the consecration of the whole soul, and the whole strength to God. There are preachers who speak more of the filthy rags of good works, and who rail more bitterly at the exceeding, "utter, unmixed depravity of man;" but we never heard any one speak words which excite in the heart a more true feeling of humility, or a deeper sense of the necessity of being instant, in season and out of season, in prayer and diligent self-devotion to duty, than such language as the above is calculated to awaken in every thoughtful readWe confess that we cannot read it without feeling bowed down by the consciousness of how far we are falling short of